Shadow Planes
by Eerie Twister
Summary: Predacons did not simply die out in a great cataclysm. They were hunted by those who sought to exterminate their kind. Beings that thought they had succeeded. Actions taken during the war alerted them to Cybertron's survival. Now they seek it's destruction. The only thing standing in their way is a lone Predacon and those who choose to fight beside her.
1. Chapter 1

So this is my first stab at a fan fic after reading so many. Hopefully I can do the series some justice with my story. I know my writing style isn't for everyone but I hope that there are at least some that enjoy it. Please let me know what you think.

Disclaimer: I do not own transformers in any way shape or form.

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Prologue

Predacons were known to have been wiped out in an event before the dawn of recorded history on Cybertron. Known only as the Great Cataclysm this event has never been fully known or understood. There is little surviving knowledge from that era. It is not known if Predacons were fully sentient or if they were little more than instinctual creatures. Any technology or society that might have existed is lost to time. What little that can be determined about this race of Cybertronians lies in their fossilized remains. This lack of knowledge had long been a point of interest for those who studied Cybertrons past. The end of Cybertrons Golden Age and the beginning of the civil war saw research into the past take a new route. Ways to clone their fearsome ancestors were explored and developed. The first attempt at cloning was an abysmal failure. Whatever it was that they had created was quickly terminated. It was all too obvious that the thing was malformed and dying before it truly knew life.

The first experiment was soon forgotten as advances were made. No one thought to look back at the pitiful remains that had yielded nothing but a frustrating dead-end. Unfortunately there were consequences for the brief appearance of a Predacon energy signature. A message was sent off into space, broadcast far beyond any explored region. Long dormant systems received the message. There was movement as a chain of events unfolded that no one on Cybertron was aware of. Only the Predacons had ever encountered the entities that had been awakened from their long slumber by the transmission. Motions were put into action as they slowly emerged from their slumber. The hive mind awakened those that would be needed. Uniting and updating its dormant components. Outlying colonies that had remained active were contacted. Scouts were sent to Cybertron to confirm the presence on Predacons.

It was a long journey, but they were infinitely patient. When the first batch of scouts didn't report back they were not overly concerned, the journey was long and full of perils. By the time the fifth batch failed to report they began to become suspicious. A raiding party was sent out. They also vanished without a trace. Suspicion turned to irritation. A newly promoted officer offered to take out a small platoon. The request was granted and the matter laid to rest until the officer's return. What they were not expecting was for the whole platoon to be found on a regularly patrolled route as corpses left on display. The officer was never seen again. Irritation morphed to anger, then to eagerness as the identity of the opposition became clear. A splash of energon and a portion of armour were found at the site. Armour that they knew belonged to the one Predacon they could not track.

Long ago they had assumed that this Predacon had perished when they had caught it in an energon mine and blown the place apart. Apparently that wasn't the case. Now all the scouts and missions lost when sent to investigate Cybertron made sense. The Predacon was still out there. Continuing to defend Cybertron from them. That made them curious once more. They were aware that a new race of Cybertronians had developed from the ashes of the Predacons grave. Did the lone survivor defend the planet or this new race? Either way it was an anomaly. Predacons only ever cared for their own kind. Loyal to a fault and protective beyond reason they never gave up. This one proved that, still defending Cybertron from those that had decimated its inhabitants. Failure to eliminate all the Predacons irked them. The beacon had been left so that they could ensure that they had finished the job.

When Cybertrons new inhabitants began to leave they were watching. This new development was an opportunity. As they spread out and scattered they came closer. Some slipped through the undefined boundary that the Predacon kept them from crossing. Their patience was rewarded when they captured a small Cybertronian ship. Prisoners were taken. Interrogations were carried out. New information obtained. Experiments were performed to determine the limitations of the new Cybertronians. Results were obtained and compared to those from the Predacons. Comparisons yielded further questions which in turn required new specimen. This time a small group was discovered fighting on a moon. Opposing sides were noted, fighting styles recorded and catalogued. Then they struck. Any subject not of interest was terminated. Three of the four targets were captured. One of the aerial forms proved too fast and manuverable to capture once the element of surprise was lost. Disappointment was felt at the loss of a fine specimen before attention turned to those that had been obtained.

Returning to a scientific structure the specimen were separated and placed in individual cells. For a short time they were observed. Time was given for them to adjust to their new status. Then the experiments began. Taken one at a time they were physically examined, all specifications noted and recorded. Then they were interrogated individually. Half way through the interrogation an alarm sounded. An unknown intruder had breached the area. Abandoning the experiment they searched for signs of the interloper. Nothing was found after several thorough searches. When the interrogator returned the captive was missing. A search of the containment cells revealed that the other two were also absent. Irritation at misplacing the subjects slowly increased the longer they were absent. It was impossible to progress in the experiments without their subjects. Scouts were sent out to track them.

A single frantic report was all they ever heard from the scouting mission. Short and succinct it summed up both what had happened and where their specimens now were. The Predacon protects. Three words were all that was needed to summarise the situation. Attempts at retrival were made only to result in heavy casualties. When further attempts revealed that the Predacon was teaching the subjects how to attack them all efforts were abandoned. Hostile specimen had always proved hazardous. The location of the Predacon was noted and raiding parties scheduled for regular attacks to weaken them. They then turned their focus to acquiring new specimen. It was then that they realised the number of Cybertronians has dwindled rapidly. Irritated at the low number of potential specimen they investigated the reason why. The next specimen provided the answer after some persuasion.

Frustration was a new emotion for them. The hive mind that they all linked to seethed like it never had before. It was discomforting to them. Loss of valuable subjects to a civil war was too much for them to understand. Didn't the Cybertronians know that only they had the priveledge of eliminating their kind from the universe? The answer appeared to be evident in their specimen's ignorance. They had no idea. Before they had a chance to correct their thinking the Predacon interfered. Breaking into the area once again it freed their subjects. They were surprised to see new Cybertronians helping in the rescue. They had not expected the Predacon to have assistance. That threw off some of their effectiveness at containing the situation. Unlike the last time they were able to damage the Predacon before it retreated. A decision was made to push an attack. This time they would eliminate the thorn in their sides. After that they would push on to Cybertron. Cleansing the metallic planet before its inhabitants eliminated themselves. This time they would not fail.


	2. Chapter 2

First actual chapter going up today too. Let me know if you're interested in me contimuing this. I have a few more chapters typed up. Interest will help me determine if I make this long or short. Thanks for reading, enjoy!

Disclaimer: Once again transformers is not mine (there has to be an easier way to do this...)

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Chapter 1 - Exodus

Diving inside the cavern the Predacon reverted to its bipedal mode. Moving from standing on four legs to two it rolled. Barely escaping the lasers that scorched the surrounding rock around. Wings flared as they were flattened painfully against its back. Standing the lithe lines of its frame revealed the Predacon to be a femme. Her colours were lost under eons of fighting and scars. Lost armour plates only added to her rugged appearance. Moving quickly she made her way further into the cave. The two Decepticon seekers behind her followed suit. The three of them were the only aerial units in the team. It had been the Predacon's hope that they would be able to spot a route out of this mess. However, it was not to be. The swarm of monsters from the shadow planes was simply too great to overcome this time. It seemed that they had dedicated to a final push. Seeking to finish the work they had started long ago when they had all but exterminated her kind.

Striding further into the cavern she exchanged brief greetings with the motley crew. Cybertronians all, but insistent on belonging to specific factions. It was an affliction that seemed to affect their processors. Initially she had been unaware of the extent of violent tendencies. She had only found out when the three she had first rescued had recovered enough and tried to kill each other. Swift intervention on her part had prevented any casualties. She had then demanded to know why they had fought. Gradually the story had been told. Deeply disappointed in the new children of Cybertron she had told them her story. The hunting of all Predacons. Surviving alone. Keeping Cybertron safe from those that had culled her kind. Then she had detailed exactly what they had done to captured Predacons, what she had saved them from undergoing. Here, under her care, they were to put aside differences. Or she would return them to where she had found them. The threat had worked. Especially after she had nearly carried it out on the fourth Cybertronian she had found.

In the depths of the cavern was the greatest accomplishment of her kind. The others called it a space bridge. She wasn't entirely sure that that was what it was. It had never been completed. The others were insistent that the only thing it could be was a space bridge. She didn't know enough to argue against their assertion. The Autobot scientist had said that it was close enough for him to be able to finish the job. Now he was frantically trying to get the space bridge to work. They needed to leave now. That spacebridge was the only way out. A former gladiator rolled up to her, weapons engaged and ready for combat. This one had taken longer to trust her than most. It was reassuring to see him approach her now.

"We cannot stay here!" He said; his tone lowered to keep it from carrying to other sensitive audios. Some would think he cared only for himself. Until they saw his optics sweep over the entirety of their small group. Including even those he had once been violently opposed to.

"As soon as the spacebridge opens go through, I will hold them as long as I can." Were the words she returned. It was all she could offer. To be the last one left to fight. They had been her enemies for a long time now. She had been the first to fight them. One of the few who had realised what they faced and found a way to counter their abilities. Now she was the last of her Predacon brethren standing. All those who surrounded her now she had saved, taught and eventually came to fight alongside her. Each was cherished by the femme. She had saved them all, rescuing them from the clutches of her greatest enemies. Yet they were still a poor substitute for what she had lost. None fully understood her.

"We don't even know if you can travel through a spacebridge!" The words were anguished. A reference to both her frame type and her ability. Shadow-walking was a dangerous skill to master. Very few Predacons had ever managed it. None of her current companions could replicate the feat. It was dangerous, shifting into another plane of reality where her enemy ruled. At times it still seemed as if she were dancing with death. The true masters of the Shadow Realm would always be its natural denizens. She was but an intruder into that realm. This time his voice carried to another.

"Go through? Blind? It's never worked before, we could end up anywhere." Nervous and young as this mech was he still spoke up. Searching for reassurance that wasn't there. His world had been turned upside down so many times that she feared he would be unable to adjust more than once. Yet for some reason she always managed to find some shred of comfort for him to cling to. Half the time it was unexpected things that made no sense to her. It was hardly a hope but it seemed to be enough to keep the young medic going. This far at any rate.

"That will be better than what we face here." Another spoke out. This one kin to the one who had spoken first. It was a brutally honest assessment. The words matching the nature of the one who had uttered them perfectly. This one was the one who had volunteered to help her give the others the ultimate mercy. If things ever got that bad that deactivation was the better choice. She was grateful to him for that. Ugly as the act might be there were worse things to endure then having a friend grant you such mercy. As much as he hated most of them he did care about their wellbeing. Even if the care was in as brutal a form as the rest of him.

"It's open!" The scientist called. Startling all of us. Then the first of their foes started to pour through the entrance. As she was the only one who could see them she sounded the warning. Everyone seemed to freeze. They were transfixed by the terrifying site before them as modified sensors finally adjusted and revealed the shadow denizens to them.

"Go! Run, now!" Her voice broke the spell as they moved as one. Each member of the tight knit group ensuring that the others made it through. The brutal one stayed by her side. Turning she directed him, asking the mech to take care of one she could not. Her duty was to them all but she needed the assurance that the weakest would be protected should she fail.

"Guard the medic!" Were the last orders she gave. Racing forward she reverted to her beast mode. Armour twisted into shape as she fell forward onto four limbs. Wings were tucked against her back to safeguard the vulnerable appendages. This was a fight she could not win, but all she had to do was buy time. Unleashing a roar she tore into the ranks of her foes with steely determination. Energon soon streaked her frame from wounds they managed to inflict. Their own lifeblood flowed just as freely as her foes perished beneath her claws. Jaws dripped with a mix of fluids from their bodies. Her frame trembled in barely supressed rage. She was the matriarch of her adopted group and they would learn not to attack her comrades.

"We're all clear, come on through." A voice called to her as she fought. Belatedly she realised it was from the modifications that they had done to her audio receptors. They called it a comm line, something the Predacons had never utilised. The unit repeated the message. Cutting through the fog of battle lust that had taken over her processor. Slowly she recalled what they had said and realised that they needed an answer.

"I'm on my way." She spoke aloud, unsure if the message reached its intended recipients. There were too many of them for her to just turn and run however. Glancing upward she smirked as an idea crossed her processor. Firing up at the roof of the cavern with a discarded weapon the femme moves with the speed given to her by her frame type. Her enemies try to brave the falling debris, desperate to bring her into range. Their desire to rend her into pieces is clear in their crazed yellow optics. Optics that match her own. These creatures would have been her kin once. Now they are little more than shells, lost to time and driven insane long ago. A shot clips her wing. Energon flows freely. Her armour dents, nearly giving, as a thrown blade embeds itself in her leg. Limping on she sees the space bridge failing. Surrounding her is the chaos of battle and falling debris.

Throwing herself forwards in a desperate bid to reach her only chance at escape the femme tries to reach the closing space bridge. Armour meets metal in a terrible screech as she impacts the ground on the other side. Wings snap and twist as her body bounces across the ground. The blade is wrenched free when it snags on something, sending pain shooting through her frame. Her sliding is abruptly halted as she collides with something. The jarring impact sends new warnings running through her processor. A snarl escapes her vocaliser as the pain flares. Systems redline and warnings that serve as precursors for stasis lock appear. Pushing the warnings aside she opens her optics. What she sees has her forcing herself to her feet. There is no one there.

Unsure if the space bridge has malfunctioned or if she has been thrown clear of the arrival zone the femme moves toward the sole source of illumination in the area. The lack of light is the first indication that her optics are malfunctioning. It does not however change a fact. None of her comrades are here. They aren't even in range of her scanners. Something had gone badly wrong. Movement on the periphery of her optical sensors triggered a reflexive reaction. Ducking down the femme nearly avoided the attack launched on her. Hampered by her injuries the reaction was slow, the whip caught on her wing. Armour tore and rent as the barbs on the whip dug into her plating. There was no new pain from the damage; too many of her systems were compromised for the fresh injuries to register.

Turning she glared in irritation at her attacker. One of the denizens had managed to follow her through the gate. It was both a good and bad situation. For a start there was only one, it was cut off from any possible reinforcements. The Predacon already knew that they were unable to operate technology like the space bridge. Denizens had always functioned best by taking over functional, sentient mechanoids. That was where the bad news started. Alone and desperate the denizen stood the best chance of survival if it could merge with her systems. It was a fate that the femme had seen others endure. She had no intention of allowing it. Even momentary merging left spark deep scars, permanent merging destroyed any Cybertronian from the spark out. All that remained in the end was a sparkless husk with a denizen lurking in the shell.

Shrieking in its soundless voice the denizen pulled back on the whip. She lunged forward, reducing the drag even as her jaws closed around the whips links. Sharp denta sheared through the weaker metal as her powerful jaws bore down on the barbed chain. Flicking her wing failed to dislodge the embedded portion. Irritated by the extra weight on her wing the femme stalked forward. She seldom got the opportunity to hunt one on one anymore; more often than not she had one of her comrades with her. Most of them were uncomfortable around her if she didn't keep a tight rein on her instincts during battle. Out of respect for their sensibilities she held back. That made times like this all the more invigorating.

Predacons were instinctual creatures, powerful and unrestrained. Rare were those who thought before reacting. Lashing out in response to pain was typical. If an enemy was seen and the fight committed to it was common for a Predacon to terminate happily if they dragged their foe down with them. Core programming was followed without a thought. Fighting with abandon was common; it was what the Predacons had been made for. They were a brutal race. Problems were solved by force more often than not. A fight gave a clear victor and grudges were not held. It was pointless when the victor was all too able to push their point. Fighting was built into them. They were the original gaurdians of Cybertron in a time where the universe was far more dangerous and raw then it has become.

Stalking forwards the femme allowed her long dormant aggression to surface. To her systems this denizen was more than just an enemy. It was a threat to her pack and kin. Instincts dormant for millennia flared. Triggered by her missing companions and the presence of a dangerous enemy. Talons dug into the metal beneath her peds as she launched herself forward. Striking with an accuracy and speed few possesses she soon tore the denizen to pieces. Its lifeblood dripped from her claws as she stood over its lifeless form. She staggered. Systems crashing down from the battle high they were running on. It is too much for her already stressed systems to handle and she collapsed. Losing herself to the black oblivion of stasis as the pain overrides all.


End file.
